


What the Fuck?

by Incadence



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Casual Sex, Crack, M/M, bad sex puns, is yoonmin trash, sorry yoongi i always bully you, taegi friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:02:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incadence/pseuds/Incadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoongi's all for one night stands. They're quick, convenient and straight to the point, without all the hassle of relationships and mushy feelings involved. </p><p>In reality, things don't always turn out as you expect. And this is Yoongi’s story of how his string of hook ups fucked him up, and not in the way he wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. Jeongguk

Yoongi's all for one night stands. They're quick, convenient and straight to the point, without all the hassle of relationships and mushy feelings involved.

In theory, casual sex should be perfect for Yoongi; to relieve that stress and the overarching lack of inspiration looming over his half assed lyrics. Yes, sex should be able to solve that.

In reality, things don't always turn out as you expect. And this is Yoongi’s story of how his string of hook ups fucked him up, and not in the way he wanted.

 

  1. Jeongguk.




 

Yoongi wasn’t ever really a clubbing sort of person, sweaty bodies, and pounding music and someone stranger’s crotch rubbing against your ass?  Yeah, he’ll pass. But the promise of free drinks, and complimentary peanuts, is enough for Yoongi to be lured out of his cave- I mean dorm, giving short, disorientated blinks, bed hair a mess under his beanie.

The second he steps up to the club door he regrets it. The unimpressed bouncer looks him up and then and then smiles, “what are you, twelve?” At that, Yoongi’s eyebrow twitches and he puffs out his chest, shoving his ID right in the (admittedly tall) bouncers face.

“I’m fucking 22 asshole.” His answer is a laugh, and before Yoongi can kick the guy in the crotch, Yoongi’s friends drag him into the club, to pounding music and the smell of too much cologne and sweat.

Getting to the bar is a matter of twisting through sweaty bodies, dodging elbows and big butts, but Yoongi makes it, sighing in relief at the sight of peanuts. True to their promises, their friends buy him- ugh- tequila shots and they disappear in the sweaty masses of people, leaving Yoongi to cradle his peanuts.

Yoongi is perfectly content to nibble at his peanuts and sip at his shitty tequila, that is until people start sidling up to him as an invitation for conversation. Hell no. The conversations don’t last long, usually because Yoongi usually grunts in response, sometimes sparing a ‘yes’ or a ‘maybe’ or if you’re lucky a long ‘whatever.’

The music is starting to drill a hole into the side of his head, and Yoongi’s on his third basket of peanuts when another stranger sidles up to him, smile small and inviting. And Yoongi would have told him to leave, if not the fact he was fucking beautiful. The stretch of denim across strong thighs, and the slight flash of teeth when he grins, crinkled eyes and smooth skin and _woah._

“I’m Jeongguk,” The stranger says with a brief tug of lips, Yoongi returns it lazily. “Can I buy-”

“Do you want to get out of here?” Yoongi cuts in, resting his hand gently against his cheek. It’s impulsive and crude, but that’s Yoongi in a nutshell.

Jeongguk who was all put together and sly smiles seconds ago, looks momentarily stunned, mouth dropping open. “Uh.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Do you, or do you not, hmm?”

“Kay,” Jeongguk stutters, eyes darting to the bar. Yoongi grins, pops a few more peanuts into his mouth and makes his way towards the exit, Jeongguk trailing at his heels. Hopefully this will be fun.

-

 

Yoongi likes shy one’s, likes the awkward way Jeongguk shuffles into his dorm, likes it even more when he breathes out a sigh when Yoongi presses him into the wall, and opens his mouth as Yoongi kisses him. And boy, can he kiss. The warmth of his tongue and the graze of teeth makes Yoongi arch into his touch, and with the brief overwhelming spark of heat, Jeongguk pulls away, making Yoongi follow, leaning in for another taste of his lips.

And when Yoongi’s fingers reach under his shirt, pressing into the heat of his skin, Jeongguk gasps all sweet and perfect. Arching his hips for him when Yoongi pushes him into the bed.

 _This was definitely a good idea._ Yoongi thinks, staring up at ceiling as Jeongguk’s lips trail to his neck, and down to his thighs, fingers skimming against his abdomen. Yoongi feels warm breath fan against his crotch, and jerks his hips up in anticipation, heat coiling under his stomach, sharp and overwhelming.

Nothing happens. And Yoongi blinks up at the ceiling. 

Jeongguk coughs. And his dick still remains untouched.

Yoongi stares down at Jeongguk, probably giving him a nice view of his double chin but that’s beside the point. Because, hello, he’s turned on and his dick is not being sucked?

“Uh, have you ever sucked a dick before?” Yoongi says.

Jeongguk jumps at that, and he ducks his head down, hiding between Yoongi’s thighs. “Uh, no?”

Yoongi sits up and exhales shakily. “Okay, that's cool, no worries dude, what about handjobs? Handjobs are cool right?”

jeongguk blinks at him, and then his face turns an alarming shade of red, the sharpest tinge of embarrassment. “Thisismyfirsttime,”

Yoongi blinks, “Did you just say-”

“This is my first time,” Jeongguk repeats.

There’s a slight pause, and Yoongi think he feels his boner wilt a bit. “Wait, you’re a _virgin?!”_

Jeongguk has the audacity to look absolutely affronted. “Of course not dumbass, I’ve had sex just um not with guys,”

“Ah,” Yoongi says. “So you’re one of those no homo but really yes homo guys, or you’re just confused about your sexuality and horny?”

“Both?” Jeongguk says smiling weakly.

Yoongi’s boner has completely died, and his boner ghost is probably floating around while the awkward silence fills the room. “Ah, so what are we going to do now?” Yoongi finally says, eyeing the bulge in Jeongguk’s pants. He vaguely wonders how he’s still hard, given the situation. Freshman, probably.

Jeongguk scratches his head, and gives a sheepish smile. “Uh, I was hoping to you know get some experience or um you could teach me?”

Yoongi stares.

“What’s your name again?” Jeongguk presses.

Yoongi stares some more.

“You… want me to teach you gay sex, like some start of sex senpei or something? You know gay porn exists?! ” Yoongi finally splutters.

“Please?” Jeongguk says, all doe eyes and a sweet smile, which looks strangely  out of place given his broad shoulders, and sharp jawline. Yoongi’s eyebrow twitches, and he’s ready to kick the kid out, half naked and all, but Jeongguk’s eyes widen and smile wobbles. _Goddamnit._

Yoongi takes some pity on the poor kid.

“Fine,” Yoongi grumbles. “My name’s Yoongi, and lesson one is don’t use teeth when you’re blowing someone, unless you want to eat dick. Lesson two, gay sex is in the butthole, you knew that right?”

“I’m not stupid hyung,” Jeongguk says with a roll of his eyes. “uh, how am I supposed to fit in a butthole though?”  
  
Yoongi’s eye twitches. This is going to be a long night.

-

“You are the best hyung ever!” Jeongguk says, nudging Yoongi awake.

Yoongi groans. His hand hurts. His dick hurts. His head hurts. “I never want to see you again, I never want to see your dick again,”

“I saved my number on your phone, you should really put a password hyung, and if I have any more questions I’ll ask you!” Jeongguk says, shuffling off the bed, and Yoongi hears him stumbling around trying to find his clothes.

“I did not agree to this,” Yoongi groans into the pillow.

Afterwards, Jeongguk, all dressed and put together, stands at the door, grin wide. “You’re not going to send me off?”

“This isn’t a fucking graduation or something kid,” Yoongi mumbles around his steaming cup of coffee, the coffee machine screeches in the background, making another much needed cup of caffeine.

“Kind of is.”

“You’re annoying, and you owe me,” Yoongi sighs. “So go forth and taint the world with your newly found gay sex skills, and now bye.”

Jeongguk beams and oh god, _salutes_ him, before slipping out of the door, a bound to his step.

Yoongi exhales harshly. Fucking brat.

-

Two days later he gets a text from NUMBER ONE STUDENT IN KOREA (ugh)

_so apparently ball sucking is a thing?_

Yoongi wrinkles his nose, and types out a reply: _is that from experience or theory?_

The reply is almost instant: _;)_

Ew. 


	2. 2. Seokjin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2\. Seokjin

2\. Seokjin

  
He was beautiful, really. Especially behind the bar, the slight flick of his wrist, and the pale expanse of smooth skin peeking from his collar. There was something endearing about the small smile, the slight waves of his hand, and the mesmerizing grace in his movements as he prepares the drinks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

  
And when Yoongi buys him a shot, the bob of his adam's apple and the slight sheen on the red of his lips, makes Yoongi want to kiss his skin black and blue.

Seokjin’s hard to get, all bartenders are. But that’s okay, Yoongi likes to play this game of give and take. And there’s a certain air of innocence to Seokjin that Yoongi is dying to corrupt, the sticky sweetness he wants to taint.

But it’s all worth it when Seokjin gives a small crooked tug of lips and takes his hand. The kisses Yoongi steals in the midnight air, to the way to his apartment, taste amazing; perfect and warm, with the sharpest hint of alcohol.

The second the door closes behind Yoongi, the power shifts almost immediately. Seokjin, all broad shoulders and large hands corners him into the wall, mouth demanding, hands gentle but firm curling around his wrists, as he grinds down. Yoongi moans, shaky and broken, arching up.

They make it to the bed in a tangle of needy kisses and discarded clothes and messy feet. Seokjin is massive, leaning over the shaky mess that is Yoongi, who twists his fingers in his shirt to pull him down and kiss him again. He tastes like whiskey and rain after a dry spell. God, he’s missed this. The mindless pleasure, the steady warmth, the curl of fire under his stomach.

Seokjin’s hands are gorgeous, people have made sniping comments about the way they curl, the unusual jut, but Yoongi thinks they are perfectly beautiful. Even more so when they tug off his pants, and skim over his stomach. Even more so when Seokjin gets him off, strong and sure, until Yoongi is a hot squirming mess, all moans and sharp sighs; even more so when he reaches into his pant pockets and takes out a ginormous, pink dildo.

Wait, what?!

Yoongi screeches and shuffles away. Seokjin must have mistaken it for a strange sounding moan because he moves closer, smile serene on his face.

“What the _fuck_ is that? Where the fuck did it come from? _Why is it pink?!_ ” Yoongi waves his hands, eyeing the pink monstrosity in Seokjin’s hands.

Seokjin frowns, how the hell does he looks so angelic when he’s holding a giant dildo is beyond Yoongi but he manages to pull it off. “I cleaned it, don’t worry!”

“That’s not the problem!” Yoongi exclaims. He vaguely wonders how many buttholes that thing has touched.

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” Seokjin says. “I mean if you’re not into this, I also have a vibr-”

“No!” Yoongi cuts in. “I’m just not into that kinky shi-” Seokjin’s face falls. “I mean uh toys.”

Seokjin deflates, but sets the pink dildo on the bedside table, and oh god Yoongi thinks he sees it touch his alarm clock.  “Sorry if I scared you,” Seokjin’s smile is small and apologetic.

“Uh, no worries?” Yoongi says, trying to resolutely ignore the pinkish tint in the corner of his peripheral vision.

They do end up fucking, and Seokjin has bomb dick game, and it does feel amazing; but just before Yoongi is about to come, he makes the mistake of turning his head. Needless to say, coming while looking at a fake pink dick is the strangest orgasm Yoongi has ever experienced.

-

“Call me?” Seokjin smiles, and it should be sweet if not for the fact he’s holding the dildo like a bouquet flowers. Yoongi wonders how that thing even fit in his pocket in the first place.

“Of course,” Yoongi gives a half forced smile and the door swings shut.

Yoongi never wants to see anything so large and pink ever again. And he also needs another cup of coffee. Multiple cups of coffee.


	3. 3. Namjoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. Namjoon

Namjoon has always been unapproachable. He’s hot, of course, but always quiet, lips pursed in concentration as he hunches over his laptop, creating dizzying, beautiful lyrics, ripped from his throat and breathed into the air with a flow Yoongi has always been envious of. Besides, he hears that Namjoon steps from one relationship to another, faster than Yoongi can even open his mouth and say the words hook up.

At least they're somewhat friends; snatches of conversation between midnight and half written lyrics, brief nods of acknowledgement, a lingering smile Yoongi hopes means more than it should. Yoongi’s probably spent half his university life lusting over someone he can’t have. He’s used to it. Whatever. He's perfectly capable of keeping his fantasies to himself. 

So when Namjoon kisses him over a smoking Korean BBQ between the hot burn of alcohol under his skin; Yoongi is surprised to say the very least. He responds with an eager ferocity, tugging Namjoon close, and moans into his mouth, giving approximately zero fucks that they're in public. He’s wanted this for _god knows how long and is certainly going to make the most of it._ It’s only after a pointed cough from the waiter, that the two break away. Completely unimpressed, he waves the bill in their faces and scurries away before more tongues can be shoved down throats. 

Namjoon’s smile is crooked and lazy when he pays for the bill before Yoongi can protest. “Hey let me repay you, for helping me on that last song.” Yoongi shrugs and hopes he means more than burnt pieces of pork belly. He's more of a ramen fan anyway.  

The sex gods must be tuning in today, because afterwards, they only make it to Yoongi’s corridor before Namjoon pulls his head back and tackles his neck with a constellation of biting kisses.

“Oh god this is actually happening _oh god_ ,” Yoongi chants, words a stumbling mess.

Namjoon’s lips graze his neck. “Hm? Did you say something?”

“N..nothing, keep going,” Yoongi stutters.

They make it to Yoongi’s apartment eventually, with wandering hands and needy kisses. So far so good. There are no dildos in sight, and Namjoon shoves his hand in his pants without a care in the world, so he clearly knows what he’s doing. No gay sex 101 classes, thank god.

Namjoon sucks him off against the kitchen counter, and hell _yeah,_ Yoongi knew that mouth could do more than just spit lyrics. His nails dig into his skin, and lips litter kisses against his thighs, reducing Yoongi into a trembling mess. The kitchen counter is kind of digging into his butt though, so with drunken kisses and stumbling socked feet the two move to the bedroom, nearly falling into a broken mess on the ground when Namjoon trips on power cords in his haste to get to the bed.

“Someone’s still wearing clothes,” Yoongi complains, as they fall onto the bed. Namjoon is still annoyingly clothed, while Yoongi’s clothes have been discarded in a trail to the bedroom. At that, Namjoon hesitates, and Yoongi wonders why because when he throws his shirt on the ground, and leans in to kiss him, it’s utter perfection. And there's so much skin for Yoongi to touch and mark and kiss. 

Namjoon is a bottom and Yoongi doesn’t really mind, he’s a flexible type of guy anyway. And the feeling of Namjoon clenching around him, and the breathy noises Yoongi drags out with his fingers, makes it all worth it. Through the years they’ve worked together, Yoongi could never imagine seeing Namjoon, who was always so strong and firm to be so _broken_ , a trembling mess in bed sheets, reduced to a moan of Yoongi’s name. It is nothing but satisfying. 

The way Namjoon arches for him when he slips in, is nearly enough to drive Yoongi over the edge. They get a good pace going out, it starts out slow and then builds like the fire that flares under the skin. Namjoon is perfect for him, moaning and sighing, snapping his hips up to meet Yoongi’s thrusts. It’s probably one of the best fucks Yoongi’s had for a while.

Then, Yoongi slips out to flip Namjoon over to take him from behind, and that’s when he see’s it.

“What,” Yoongi starts. “The. _Fuck?”_ Because, scrawled across Namjoon's left buttcheek is a string of massive, black cursive:  _PROPERTY OF JIYEONG_

Namjoon is a blissed out mess on the bed, so it takes him a while to react. Slowly, he turns his head and then jerks up. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Please don’t tell me that is a tattoo,” Yoongi says, eyeing the massive black letters that glare at him from Namjoon’s butt.

“Uh, yes?”

Yoongi’s boner wilts. “Why do you have a tattoo on your butt that _says property of Jiyeong?”_ Yoongi’s voice rises as a crescendo with every word, hands waving around in a flurry.

“She was fucking crazy!” Namjoon exclaims, poking at the tattoo. “Why do you think I’m here now? Girls are fucking insane!”

“Why is it here? I don’t want to see this shit while fucking you!” Yoongi yells, staring at the curled letters like it’s a strange disease invading Namjoon’s butt.

“Do you know how expensive tattoo removal is? I want my weeks worth of food and rent thank you very much,” Namjoon sniffs. “C’mon, just put a pillow on it or something!”

“My pillow is not touching that _thing!”_ Yoongi says. “And really Namjoon I would but-” he points at his dick. “My boner is dying thanks to your artwork!”

Namjoon’s eyes widen and he scrabbles up, whips around and digs his hands into Yoongi’s hips. “No please!” he yells at Yoongi's crotch. “I haven’t had sex in ages, don’t die on us little one!”

Yoongi nearly pops a vein. _“Little one?”_

Namjoon’s eyes widen, and his smile falters. “I didn’t mean-”

“Get the fuck _out,_ and my boner is fucking dead forever and no amount of black magic is going to make it rise from the dead thank you very much,” Yoongi says, voice a dangerous monotone.

Needless to say the rest of the year at the studio is awkward.

 


	4. 4. Taehyung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. Taehyung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole fic started by 'a state of miscommunication' drabble and tae's bit was going to be that but then WHEEZES TAEGI FRIENDSHIP AGHSD

Taehyung doesn’t usually have good ideas, I mean he willingly and _lovingly_ calls Yoongi his best friend. Someone like that, in Yoongi’s opinion, is kind of crazy. But those are the circumstances, and by Taehyung’s nagging they find themselves doing many, _many_ glasses of shots. Because as Taehyung puts it, this is a ‘pre-exam celebration.’ (there are also 'mid-exam celebrations', 'post exam celebrations' and 'what the hell it’s a thursday why not' celebrations but that’s beside the point.) The point is that, Taehyung is the ultimate frat boy, and Yoongi can’t help but love the hell out of his friend, shitty hangovers and all.

Right now, Taehyung is blackout drunk, anyone with eyes in a three metre vicinity can see that in all clarity.  Yoongi is not three metres away from him, in fact Taehyung has managed to corner Yoongi into the bar and has completely pressed himself against him, muttering gibberish in Yoongi’s ear.

And Yoongi, _sober_ Yoongi would definitely have told him to fuck off so he can get to them complimentary peanuts. But this isn’t sober Yoongi, this is 6 tequila shots burning in his system Yoongi. And the feel of Taehyung’s leather clad thighs against his, feel absolutely amazing right now, even if they are Taehyung’s. And when Taehyung adds a swipe of his tongue against his neck, it's enough to make Yoongi shiver. It’s probably the alcohol burning sharp and sweet in his veins.

The bartender (shit it’s Seokjin), looks completely serene, but even drunk Yoongi can see the tick in his eyebrow. “It would be nice if you two could stop… _dirtying_ up my bar.” He says between gritted teeth. Taehyung blinks at him owlishly while Yoongi throws him a glare. Fuck you Seokjin and your massive pink dildo.

With a shrug, Yoongi grabs Taehyung wrists, and manhandles him towards the entrance. The sound of Taehyung's giggles ring in his ears, mixed with off tune girl group lyrics, all while trying to shove his hands in his pants, while Yoongi flails, swatting him away. They are in public, and Yoongi is most definitely not an exhibitionist.

It should be a sight, two college boys stumbling around, limbs a flailing mess; and it is an absolute miracle how they make it to the dorm without dying.

Yoongi doesn’t even think he’s that horny to be perfectly honest. But he welcomes the warmth of Taehyung nonetheless. Taehyung’s is clingy as fuck, and litters very sloppy kisses all over his neck, and then down to his lips. It's wet, insistent and honestly a little gross. 

“Why are your kisses so sloppy what the _fuck_ ,” Yoongi slurs, turning his head away.

“You’re sloppy,” Taehyung giggles, nibbling at Yoongi’s cheek. “Gross, gross grosssss,”

They fall in a tequila stinking lump onto the bed, and Yoongi is octopused in Taehyung embrace. This close, Yoongi can feel his breath ghost his cheek, and the gentle slope of fluttering eyelashes. Taehyung was pretty. Or maybe that’s the alcohol talking. Whatever.

They lazily kiss some more, because Yoongi knows he doesn’t need to impress Taehyung with whatever flexible tongue movements he does possess. It’s just stupid lazy kissing between two drunk friends and that’s perfectly okay.

And then Taehyung tries to give him a handjob. It’s pretty shitty to be honest and if possible sloppier than the kisses. Yoongi wrinkles his nose and swats his hand away, kneeing Taehyung in the process. “Tae, tae. I dunno if-hic- it is _possible_ but i’m getting less hard.”

Taehyung noses at Yoongi’s cheek, and rests his hand against Yoongi’s stomach instead. “Don’t be mean Yoongiiii, why da fuck you sayin’ my uh handjobs are second-rate?”

“You’re not funny Taehyung,” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Nah you know my handjobs great,but my wrist hurts I-” Taehyung hiccups. “I just gave a dude this handjob the other day, cute as fuck, nice dick and all, oh and can blow like a boss, mm” Taehyung sighs dreamily.

Yoongi closes his eyes, “Good on ya?”

“If you see a cute lookin kid called Jeongguk, call me hm?” Taehyung mumbles sleepily into his shoulder.

 _“.... fuck me.”_   Yoongi says.

Taehyung opens an eye to stare at Yoongi. “I would but my limbs are like jelly, I can’t feel my dick,”

Yoongi turns to Taehyung and smiles, lazy and crooked. “Do you want to get pizza instead?”

Taehyung perks up at that, and leans in to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s nose. “Hell yess, I love you. But uh you call. My butt is numb.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, rolls off his bed and crawls towards his charging phone.

-

Sex was cool. But you know what’s even cooler? Being drunk off your ass and being surrounded by three pizzas while watching shitty game shows with your (best) friend.

Yoongi watches as Taehyung attempts to shove two slices of pizza in his mouth, making the most ridiculous face in the process. He feels a sudden rush of affection, and he pretends the heat is the tequila circulating in his veins.

“You’re pretty cool,” Yoongi shrugs, around his slice of pizza.

Taehyung turns to him and fucking _beams_. “I love you too Yoongi.”

And hey, maybe this hook up failed spectacularly, but really Yoongi wouldn’t change anything. Taehyung’s bad ideas always somehow turn out okay though.

-

Wait. Yoongi takes that back. Right away.

Because in the morning when Yoongi stumbles into the bathroom to stew in his own hangover and vomit, he bypasses the mirror and sees that his face is more covered in sharpie dicks than usual.

_“TAE-FUCKING-HYUNG.”_

Furiously rubbing dicks off your face sounds fun right? Well it isn’t. It includes a pounding headache, lots of soap and smeared sharpie that makes him look like some drunk panda.

Fun times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh i'm going to make this a oneshot after i finish all the chapters yo


	5. 5. Hoseok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5\. Hoseok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this update was very late, i'm sorry about that, yoongi's dick needed a little well deserved rest after the crap i subjected him to in past chapters  
> also i can't stop making puns i'm so sorry

Yoongi has decided that sex was overrated. He has subjected his dick to enough pain already and he’s perfectly happy with his hand now, thank you very much. It is familiar, isn’t into kinky shit and will not give him blue balls. But then again, you know what is also overrated? Starbucks.

But Yoongi had to be perfectly honest, things are overrated for a reason.

Other than being overrated, what else does Starbucks and sex have in common? That hot as fuck, barista of course.

Yoongi likes his coffee black and bitter, just like his soul. Starbucks doesn't do coffee like that though, putting fancy names and whipped cream and sticky syrup, ruining the brutally simplistic nature that coffee was supposed to be.  But Yoongi would probably fight through layers of whipped cream if it means getting even a piece of that barista ass. He's sinfully pretty, beautiful lips, strong thighs and the smile sweeter than any heart attack concoction Starbucks has created. And despite the fact that the iced caramel macchiato is way too sugary and ridiculously overpriced, not to mention his sex life has been cursed by the sex gods, Yoongi can’t help coming back for more.

The only thing Yoongi knows about said barista is from the crooked name tag, spelling out _Hoseok_. But Yoongi doesn't care because hey, he's still hot as fuck. He doesn't care if you think he's shallow. Stop judging him already. And have you _seen_ Hoseok? 

Maybe making longing eyes over his sickly sweet drink was not a wise preposition idea, and Yoongi has probably spent half the goddamn semester, slowly getting diabetes, while in actuality more feeding off Hoseok’s wide smiles, all crinkled eyes and gorgeous lips which just makes Yoongi slurp at his drink angrily.

 If he wanted to get that pretty face into his bed, ass first, it would need planning. It would need precise movements and actions. It would need that long list of Cosmopolitan tips.

Yoongi has seen others eyeing Hoseok, but Yoongi was here _first._ Hoseok was his. And he’s going to get some, even if it means shitty coffee. Even if it means diabetes. Even if it kills him, _literally._

It took months, okay, _months_. Waking up a bit earlier to look presentable, careful smiles, slight flirting but not overdoing it, so that Hoseok gets scandalized and spits in his drink or something The way to a man’s heart is through his coffee. And Yoongi means that in both love and death. (Who in their right mind puts four scoops of ice cream in one glass of coffee anyway, was Hoseok trying to kill him?!)

Just when Yoongi thinks his efforts are in vain and will forever have to lust for those pretty lips behind a counter and a macchiato that is probably going to bring him to his deathbed, Hoseok finally, _finally_ reciprocates in the form of a scribbled phone number and a fleeting wink.

Ah. The sweet taste of success. Yoongi thinks, gleefully sipping at his macchiato. Or that might just be because he’s going on his sugar high. Whatever.

Carefully, with small, precise taps, Yoongi types out a message and hits send: _When do you get off today?_

He watches as Hoseok peeks at his phone, smiles and Yoongi’s phone pings:  _Six :)_

Yoongi sips at his macchiato pensively. Maybe he was reading into this too much. Maybe Hoseok only wanted a friend. Maybe Hoseok is oblivious as fuck. Or worse, maybe Hoseok was straight. Maybe Yoongi will forever have to use his right hand.

His phone pings again:   _Btw I top :)_

Yoongi chokes on his drink. He thinks he sees Hoseok laugh. Fucker. (Or really fuck yes!) 

Anticipation curls itself under Yoongi’s skin, warm and insistent. Which means, Yoongi manages to take the shittiest notes possible in his lectures because all he can think about is what Hoseok’s skin will taste like, or what his moans will sound like and how fucking pretty he’ll look spread out on his freshly made bed sheets.

This had taken months in the making, and the sex gods better not fuck this up. In fact they better fuck him _up_ for all the trouble they’ve caused.

Yoongi crosses his fingers and hopes. After all, good things _come_ to those who wait. Pun intended.

Five o’clock comes around way too slowly, at least the nap he took during his lecture helped pass the time a little quicker. Yoongi bypasses the bathroom to quickly check if his hair isn’t a mess from his power nap, pops a mint in his mouth, and just to make sure, checks his dick, and everything down under seems a-okay so Yoongi’s finally ready to get his (well-deserved) barista ass.

Under the pastel shine of the coffee lights, with only night filtering through the wide windows, Yoongi finds Hoseok is even more beautiful. The day has cast a constellation of disarray across his clothes, smudged with crushed coffee and spilled milk, crinkled from moving hands and smoking machines.

“Hey,” Yoongi greets, when Hoseok is bent down, scrubbing furiously at one of the coffee stains.

Hoseok greets Yoongi with a wide yawn, before his eyes crinkle, lips spreading into a smile. “Hey there.” And Yoongi’s lips part open in surprise when Hoseok curls a hand through his shirt and pulls him into a kiss.

They always expect baristas to be the sweetest. But with Hoseok, that is not the case. There’s nothing in that kiss that says sweet. No, it’s all tongue and teeth and a dirty moan that’s dragged out when Hoseok pushes him into the table, hands finding their way under Yoongi’s shirt. Each kiss leaves Yoongi panting and needy, nails scrabbling at Hoseok’s shoulders for leverage.

“Woah,” Yoongi breaths through swollen lips.

Hoseok smirks. “Been waiting to do that for a while now, I like this look on you.”

Yoongi arches his neck, as Hoseok litters kisses across his throat. “We should, ah, get out of here.”

Hoseok laughs, “Awh, you don’t want me to fuck you into the table?”

Yoongi stares. “People eat on here.”

“And?”

Yoongi sighs. Baristas are kinda nasty, but at least he’s still hot.

On the way to Yoongi's apartment, Hoseok can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. He’s either really horny, or really into public sex. Yoongi hopes it’s not the latter, because Yoongi is so vanilla that the thought of dildos (ahem Seokjin?) actually kind of makes his dick deflate.

Before they enter the apartment, just before Hoseok leans in for another kiss, Yoongi stalls, hand pressed to Hoseok’s chest.

“Wait.”

“Hm?” Hoseok says. “Is something wrong?”

Yoongi shakes his head and narrows his eyes. “No, I just want to make sure of something.”

“Um I’m clean?” Hoseok answers cautiously.

“Cool,” Yoongi replies, “But please tell me you’re not into any weird kinks, or strange tattoos, or have a massive, pink dildo in your pocket”

Hoseok looks scandalized, and Yoongi only shrugs. “Precautions okay?”

“No, no and no?” Hoseok says, checking his pockets and alas, there are no dildos is sight. “But your sexcapades do sound way more exciting than mine.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, and pushes open his apartment door. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well,” Hoseok’s eyes darken, and Yoongi’s finding it a little hard to breathe when he gets cornered into the wall, caged in by Hoseok’s arms, gentle words breathed onto his lips. “I do have something to shut you up with.”

“Welp,” is all Yoongi can get out, before he is pushed into the bed, arching his hips for Hoseok. Mouth open, red and glistening, Hoseok pushes his shirt past his head, leaning in to graze lips across Yoongi’s collarbones and the span of his shoulders. Despite it feeling so good, and the fact Hoseok kisses like a god, Yoongi is still cautious. He’s on the lookout for a third nipple or some random kink, or whatever the universe decides to thrust on him now, (other than Hoseok’s glorious hips.)

But so far so good. Hoseok is breathtaking, especially when he kicks off his pants and slips off his shirt, displaying smooth skin and a firm chest that Yoongi kisses hard enough to they leave little, scarlet marks. Hoseok was probably a dancer in another life, because _boy_ , can he roll his hips. It feel so good, so insistent and overwhelming that Yoongi could probably come just by grinding alone. 

Hoseok is good with his hands too, and the universe repays that sucky handjob he got from Taehyung. In fact, the only thing sucky here is the good kind of sucky, because as it turns out Hoseok is phenomenal with his lips.

“Thank you,” Yoongi breathes, as he stares at the ceiling. He went through all those blue balls and weird hookups, and the months of pining and awkward flirting. All this hard work, and not so _hard_ work, finally paid off.

The only thing a little strange is that Hoseok’s moans sound weird. In fact they don’t sound like moaning at all, they sound like-

Yoongi’s eyes flutter open, just to see Hoseok's mouth wide open in a yawn.

“Um, are you okay?” Yoongi asks, as Hoseok slips on the condom, mouth open in another wide yawn.

“Yeah…” Hoseok blinks sleepily. “Just got a long shift today, "s’fine.”

“...Okay, as long as you don’t fall sleep on me.” Yoongi laughs nervously.

Hoseok throws the condom wrapper on the ground, and rests his hands on Yoongi’s stomach, positioning his hips. “I won’t…” he says, followed by another yawn. “Just all the other stuff got me a little sleepy.” he leans in and Yoongi relaxes because he can feel the warmth of Hoseok against his ass. He was finally going to get the good stuff.

And then Hoseok pushes in, filling him up perfectly. It's heady and overwhelming and everything Yoongi wanted and needed, breathed out into a slight moan.

Hoseok doesn’t move yet, instead he leans forward, and Yoongi parts his lips because he’s expecting more harried kisses. Instead, Hoseok completely misses his lips, slumps on his chest and stops moving completely.

For one terrifying second, all the blood rushes from his face in white cold fear, because did someone just die with their dick in his ass?!

But then, there’s the gentle sound of snoring against his chest, and the fear is replaced with anger.

Yoongi doesn’t move, he doesn't move at all. All he can do it stare at the ceiling. He thinks he feels his soul leave his body. along with his libido, and his pride follows along just for the sake of it. His boner is confused.

“WHY!” Yoongi yells in frustration, after a few minutes of blank staring. And Hoseok doesn’t even stir when Yoongi pushes him off and stalks to the bathroom, kicking the wall in anger, which ends up in him stubbing his toe, resulting in lots of pained screaming and pricks of angry tears.

Hoseok is still asleep.

Why do these things happen to him? Does he need to sacrifice a goat or something for half decent sex?

“What do you want?” Yoongi sighs, “Why do you do this to me? I waited months for this!”

Sorry Yoongi. Your pain is our entertainment. But don’t worry, we’ve got something good for you planned. But right now your right hand can be your one night stand.

“FUCK!” Is the reply we get, and the bathroom explodes in a whirlwind of banging and clanging.

Hoseok is still fast asleep.

(But at least Yoongi gets ‘I’m sorry I fell asleep on you when my dick was in you’ pancakes in the morning?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry yoongi, i only do this bc you're my fave <3  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> this will probably be finished very soon, probably this week at the latest!  
> sorry for not being active at all. exams are gross :c  
> but i shall be back after exams are finished and i'm excited to write more!!!! ( and hopefully less crack welp, i feel like im not improving at all)


End file.
